


Summer Boys

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Birthday, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: Niccolò has been away for far too long, a whole month of summer, and Martino is eager to get him back and celebrate a belated birthday in the best way possible.





	Summer Boys

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a tumblr request for some *ahem* ~longer smut.

Niccolò enveloped Martino in his arms the minute he stepped through the door, and Martino laughed as Niccolò pressed kisses to his neck, as though he couldn’t get enough of him. Not that Martino was complaining, tightening his grip around Nico’s shoulders and burying his face in Niccolò’s neck.

“Did you miss me?” Martino asked as Niccolò’s mouth moved up to his face, pressing kisses to his jaw, his chin, the corner of his mouth.

“Only a little,” Nico replied, not letting go of Martino just yet, smoothing a finger over his face and beaming at him.

Niccolò’s skin was tanner, freckles disappearing against his skin, and even though it had been over a month since Martino had seen him, everything felt the same.

It had been a very long month, Martino admitted, as Niccolò’s parents had taken him off for the summer, a “much-needed getaway” they’d said, which only meant Martino had to be satisfied with phone calls every other day as Niccolò spent time on beaches and touring castles, which Niccolò maintained was incredibly boring after the first one.

Elia had teased him mercilessly every time he looked at his phone, hoping for a message from Nico. Niccolò had not been stingy, texting him every day, usually about banal things that happened, unimportant, but they still made Martino smile and wish he would come back.

“I didn’t miss you,” he said despite Niccolò’s knowing laugh, unable to stop the smile on his face that gave him away, not that Niccolò would have believed him anyway.

“I’m sure you and the boys got up to a lot of mischief while I was away,” Nico said, tucking a curl behind Martino’s ear and Martino shook his head.

“Just the usual.” A lot of FIFA, listening to Luca whine about his lack of prospects, weekends at the lake house. Martino wished Niccolò had been there for all of it.

Niccolò paused, gazing at Martino in a way Martino had missed, filled with warmth and amusement. After a second, Niccolò let his fingers fall down Martino’s neck, and Martino shivered, tickling.

“Is your mom home?” he asked, not glancing around the apartment, only watching Martino, and Martino felt the heat of his gaze all the way down to his toes. His fingers curled around Nico’s neck as he shook his head.

“She’s out of town at a teacher training this week,” he said, smiling as Niccolò’s hands slid to his hips, edging in closer.

“Okay,” Nico said simply, and Martino laughed, licking his lips and nodding.

“Okay,” he echoed, not waiting for Nico to move first, pulling him forward into a kiss he’d been waiting for for a month.

A month was entirely too much time to be apart from Niccolò, he decided as they stumbled back, through the empty apartment, down the hall, not really looking where they were going. Niccolò’s hands kept a firm grip on Martino’s hips, guiding the way, and Martino let him. He didn’t care if they knocked things over on the way, if they bumped into walls, breaking the kiss only to laugh, breathless and flushed already.

Niccolò’s eyes were shining, bright, eager, as they finally reached Martino’s door and Martino pulled away from his mouth, hands on Nico’s shoulders as they paused at the door frame.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me about your trip first?” he asked, cut off almost immediately by Niccolò’s mouth on his, the kiss hard, enough of an answer to his question, and Martino didn’t ask again.

“God, I missed you, Marti,” Niccolò murmured as they landed on the bed, Martino underneath Nico, his heart swelling a little at Nico’s words.

They still had too many clothes on, too many barriers between them, but Niccolò seemed content to kiss him, tongue sliding into his mouth, sweeping against his, hot and wet and hard as Martino groaned softly as he pulled Niccolò closer on top of him. He loved the feeling of Niccolò against him, his body lean and hard, warm to the touch as Martino got his hands under his shirt, tracing the muscles in his back.

Niccolò’s hands were hot as he moved them down Martino’s body, smoothing over his shirt, down his sides, fingers gliding under the hem and moving to push it up, but Martino broke the kiss abruptly, reaching for Niccolò’s wrists.

“Wait,” he said, catching Nico’s confused look, hands gripping Nico’s wrists, stopping him from pushing his shirt up.

“What’s wrong?” Niccolò asked immediately, a crease in his brow that almost made Martino smile. Nico always cared that he was happy.

“Nothing,” Martino assured him, letting go of Nico’s wrists, reaching up to smooth the crease away. “I was just thinking that your birthday was last week, and we missed it.”

Niccolò didn’t look completely reassured that everything was alright, but he nodded. “If I’m remembering right, we didn’t completely miss it.”

Martino could feel the blush on his cheeks as he thought about the phone call that night, how hard he’d come, biting his lip to keep quiet so he didn’t wake his mother.

“I haven’t given you your present yet,” he said, and Niccolò paused, gazing down at him.

“I can wait,” he said, pressing his lip to Martino’s bottom lip, moving to slide up and capture both, but Martino shoved his shoulder, unable to stop the smirk at his lips. Niccolò was going to like this, he was sure of it.

“I think you’re going to want to see this,” he said instead, and Niccolò laughed, moving back slightly at Martino’s insistence.

“Okay, Marti, give me my present.”

“You have to take my shirt off for it.”

Niccolò’s eyebrows went up and he grinned. “I think I’m going to like this present.”

“I think you will too,” Martino agreed, arching his back off the mattress as Nico’s hands slid to his hem and pushed the shirt up.

He heard Niccolò gasp as the hem rose, helping him pull it off, watching Niccolò’s face as he tossed it away.

Niccolò stared down at his hip, the giraffe inked against his skin, its neck stretching up his side. He seemed lost for words as his eyes darted over every single detail, from the shading on the colored patches, his fingers reaching out to trace the curve of the neck. Martino squirmed at the light touch, almost tickling.

“When did you get this?” he asked finally, meeting Martino’s eyes, something more than lust in his gaze, something softer that made Martino’s heart flutter stupidly.

“Right after you left,” he said, “so that it would be healed when you got back.”

Niccolò stared for another minute, hands resting on Martino’s hips.

Gio had come with him to get it, never once making fun of him, only smiling like it was so obvious how in love Martino was as he got a giraffe inked into his skin. Luca hadn’t understood when he’d seen it at the lake and Elia pretended to die when Martino explained it. But Martino didn’t care what they thought.

Niccolò finally raised his eyes from the tattoo, the same heat back in his eyes from before. “So I can touch it?”

A smile grew on Martino’s face as he nodded. “You can do whatever you want.”

He knew how much Niccolò loved his other tattoos. Nico had told him as much, always tracing the one on his arm, following the lines as they lay in bed together.

“I love it,” Niccolò said finally, leaning into Martino, kissing him softly, fingers lingering on Martino’s hips.

The softness didn’t last long as Niccolò’s mouth slid down, pressing hot kisses to Martino’s chest, and Martino stretched back as heat rushed down his body. He’d spent too many nights jerking off to thoughts of this, of Niccolò’s mouth on his skin, but the real thing was a million times better.

Nico’s fingers pulled at the hem of his jeans as his kisses fell over Martino’s stomach, and Martino knew when he reached the tattoo when Niccolò licked over his hip bone. He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and melting into Nico’s touches, Nico’s hands tugging his jeans open, shoving them down his thighs but not bothering to get him naked yet.

Instead, Niccolò’s hands grazed up his sides as his mouth continued its assault on his hip, tongue tracing all the way up Martino’s ribs, the subtle curve of the giraffe’s neck. Martino had stared at it enough in the mirror to know just where Niccolò’s mouth would fall.

Nico took the time to suck a bruise into the skin, and Martino’s body responded with only heat, skin flushed, cock hard where Niccolò wasn’t touching him just yet, blood throbbing as Martino concentrated on the pressure of Nico’s mouth against his hip, sucking bruises along the bone.

“Ni,” he managed to say, breathless, reaching for Niccolò’s hair, sliding his fingers through the curls.

In response, Niccolò only seemed to make everything hotter, reaching for Martino’s thighs, shifting until their hips were pressed together and Martino sucked in a breath at Nico’s erection pressed to his.

Niccolò still had too many clothes on, Martino decided, tugging him up, away from the tattoo so he could get his mouth on Nico’s, lips sliding together as Martino’s hands pulled at Nico’s shirt. He got it over his head, messing up his hair, wild curls falling into Niccolò’s eyes and Nico grinned at him as Martino tossed the shirt away.

“You did so miss me,” he said, smirking down at Martino, kissing him again as Martino’s chest swelled and Martino shoved him back, rolling them over so he was on top of Niccolò, grinding his hips down. He was satisfied as Nico’s eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks for a second, mouth open, exhaling quickly. “Fuck, Marti,” Niccolò groaned, fingers digging into the back of his thighs.

A month was too long to go without touching Niccolò, and Martino was going to make up for it right now.

Tugging at Niccolò’s jeans, he got them off, in a messy pile on the floor, moving up so that their hips could press together, heat coursing through his body, and Martino took a breath to steady himself. He wasn’t going to come just from this, just from Niccolò’s dark eyes on him, tongue darting out to wet his lips, just from Nico’s prick hard against his.

The benefit of not having a maid, Martino had decided a while ago, was that no one went through his drawers, looking under crumpled pieces of paper and jumbles of old pens to find the lube hidden at the bottom, the pack of condoms Martino hoped his mother would never know about.

As he pulled them out, he had to pause at Niccolò’s mouth back on his chest, sucking a mark into his collar bone, fingers tracing over the giraffe at his side, gripping a bit too tightly as Martino faltered, lube in his hand, all his weight on one hand as he came back. Reaching for Nico, he pulled Niccolò’s mouth up to his instead, pouring all the emotions into the kiss, a whole month of being without Nico, wishing he was here, even just to sleep in the same bed, to be able to touch him whenever he wanted to.

His weight pressed against Niccolò, down into the mattress, and he knew Niccolò loved it, loved the feeling of Martino on top of him. When they slept, it was always Niccolò who pulled Martino on top of him. Martino had stopped worrying about being too heavy a long time ago.

He hated to slide back, breaking contact with their hips, but he kept his mouth pressed to Niccolò’s body, peppering kisses down his stomach, over his abs, down to his hips as he pulled Niccolò’s underwear down, revealing his hardened prick, the tip already wet, and Martino knew Niccolò was watching him as he smoothed his hand over it.

It had been intimidating, the first time he’d done this, a little nerve-wracking after how amazing Niccolò seemed to be at it. But he’d learned, and it had gotten easier, better, good enough that Niccolò moaned as Martino let his tongue slide up the underside of his prick.

Martino loved when Niccolò’s hands reached for his hair, tugging at the ends, encouraging him with small sighs, muttered curses under his breath, as though Martino was actually good at this.

Shifting, Martino pressed his palm against his own erection, not getting enough friction, willing himself to hold on as he took Niccolò in his mouth, hot and hard, sucking quickly, listening to the changes in Nico’s breathing, sharp and fast now.

“Marti,” Niccolò murmured, fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him up, away from his cock, drawing Martino in and kissing him deeply, wrapping his legs around Martino’s body and pushing up into him. “Fuck me,” he breathed against Martino’s lips, fingernails digging into Martino’s shoulder as Martino bit back a groan, flush rising on his skin, everything hot and blurry as he scrambled for the lube he’d dropped on the mattress.

Niccolò’s hands shoved Martino’s briefs off, getting the condom from the side table and ripping it open.

Martino’s head bowed as Niccolò slid the condom on his prick, hands quick and careful, grazing along his erection, squeezing once as Martino bit his lip. He’d been scared the first time they’d done this too, had taken what felt like hours to actually do it. It didn’t take hours now as he smoothed his hands up Niccolò’s legs, pushing them up, sliding in against him and coating his fingers in lube.

“Did you do this while you were away?” Martino asked, voice quiet as he slid a finger inside Nico, watching his face change, the curse falling from his lips.

“Mmm,” Niccolò hummed softly, shifting so Martino could slide in deeper, add a second finger to the first and push through the tight muscles of Nico’s body. “Always thought of you when I did,” he murmured, opening his eyes to gaze at Martino.

The thought of Niccolò fingering himself was almost too much for Martino and a spark jolted through his cock, eager, skin hot.

“Fuck, Ni,” he breathed as he pulled his fingers out, coating lube on his cock instead, giving it a reassuring squeeze, telling himself to hold on, at least get inside Nico first.

Niccolò’s body was hot, muscles tight as Martino pressed inside, shutting his eyes as he let out a breath, pulse thudding in his throat and he swallowed it down. He opened his eyes when he felt Niccolò’s hand on his stomach, fingers grazing over the tattoo again, like he couldn’t get enough of it.

Martino moved, hips pushing into Niccolò, everything a rush of heat, the world around them blurring until it was just them, just Martino watching Niccolò groan, his legs tucked around Martino as he fucked him. Just Nico’s mouth slightly open, lips shiny and red, dark lashes spread over his cheeks, a flush creeping up his chest.

Niccolò’s fingers pressed into the giraffe as he gasped and Martino closed his eyes for a second, basking in the heat rushing through his body, the tightness of Nico’s muscles around his prick, ripples of pleasure crashing over him as he felt the tightening in his stomach, toes curling as he sucked in a breath, rocking into Nico.

He wasn’t going to last long, not with Niccolò’s moans filling the room, not with Niccolò’s fingers digging into his thighs, Nico arching into him, allowing him in deeper, blood throbbing in his cock.

Martino leaned into Nico’s mouth, pressing a breathless kiss to his lips, mostly tongue, lips brushing together as Niccolò’s hands wrapped around the back of his neck and kept him there, sucking on Nico’s bottom lip as he thrust in, his rhythm faltering as he gasped against Nico’s mouth, stomach tightening.

“Marti,” Niccolò murmured, fingers carding through his hair, gentle compared to the way their bodies moved together, the way their tongues slid against each other, wet and messy, panting together. “ _Marti_.”

“Oh God,” Martino gasped as he came a second later, pressing inside Niccolò as release washed over him, skin tingling, everything hot, panting for breath.

Niccolò kept his grip on Martino as he came, all the way through until Martino let out a breath and hung his head.

“You’re so hot,” Niccolò murmured and Martino smiled, holding himself up with his hands on either side of Niccolò against the mattress.

He let their noses brush together as he sighed, licking his lips and glancing down to where Niccolò was still hard, cock flushed against his stomach.

“Maybe we should get you a tattoo,” Martino said as he slid out, peeling off the condom and tossing it in the trash across the room. He didn’t get up, though, pressing his mouth to Nico’s chest, tracing down his muscles with his tongue. Niccolò didn’t stop him this time, stretching back and closing his eyes, completely relaxed in Martino’s bed.

“No,” he said after a minute as Martino reached his prick, running his tongue over the ridges. “Just you.”

Smiling, Martino didn’t reply, taking Niccolò in his mouth, jerking him off with his hand as he sucked, the taste of Niccolò on his tongue. Niccolò was hot and heavy in his mouth, always a little bigger than Martino expected as he sucked him off, flicking his tongue over the tip as Nico groaned above him.

He hadn’t lasted long the first time Niccolò had gone down on him, too caught up in the moment, in Nico’s mouth on him, in how amazing it was.

He knew Niccolò wasn’t going to last long this time either, already so hard, already most of the way there.

Niccolò pushed at Martino’s shoulder a minute later, a warning, and Martino pulled away, pressing his mouth to Nico’s inner thigh instead, sucking a bruise into his skin as Niccolò came, a shaky breath on his lips, chest moving quickly as Martino glanced up.

“Fuck,” Niccolò breathed when Martino crawled up to collapse beside him. He smiled over at Martino, brushing his hair back after a second. “I should go away more often.”

“No,” Martino replied immediately, sliding an arm over Niccolò’s stomach. “You should never leave again.”

Niccolò laughed, and Martino sighed, content, as Nico pressed a kiss to his temple. “Okay.”

Lying there, Martino smiled as Nico’s arm snaked around his shoulder and pulled him closer. Next summer, if they went anywhere, it would be together.

*

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, [reblog it on tumblr](https://azozzoni.tumblr.com/post/182058173651/archive-of-our-own)? <3


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